


Take These Broken Wings

by fuckin_fudge_nutter



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Angst, Demon Gabriel (Good Omens), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fallen Angel Gabriel (Good Omens), Genderfluid Crowley (Good Omens), Hurt/Comfort, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:33:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26028013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuckin_fudge_nutter/pseuds/fuckin_fudge_nutter
Summary: Beelzebub had hoped that it wouldn’t come to pass, but deep down they knew it would. They knew that, eventually, She would cast him out, and he would Fall, and there would be nothing anyone, not even the Lord of the Flies, could do.They just didn’t expect it to happen so soon.
Relationships: Beelzebub/Gabriel (Good Omens)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 29





	1. Chapter 1

Beelzebub had hoped that it wouldn’t come to pass, but deep down they knew it would. They knew that, eventually, She would cast him out, and he would Fall, and there would be nothing anyone, not even the Lord of the Flies, could do.

They just didn’t expect it to happen so soon.

~

It had been almost a year since Armageddidn’t, and Beelzebub was still turning the whole thing over in their head, trying to figure out how they felt about it. On one hand, this was the thing they’d been working for six thousand years to bring about. This was the Big One, capital B, capital O. This was _it_ , and without it, Beelzebub felt more than a little unsure of their purpose.

But on the other hand, although Beelzebub would never admit it to anyone, they did feel a spark of relief. They weren’t sure why, but they had a sneaking suspicion that it had something to do with a certain purple-eyed Archangel.

When Beelzebub had seen one of their own, the traitor Crowley, sprawled in that tub of holy water, defying all of Heaven and Hell to be with the one they loved, they had felt, for a moment, something that might have been jealousy. And it scared them, to feel that. What if someone found out? What if _Gabriel_ was found out?

Beelzebub knew he loved them. When they both believed Armageddon was about to begin, and that they’d never see each other again, he’d told them. They’d seen the look of desperation in his eyes, and they knew he was telling the truth, and they saw the way his face fell, ever so slightly, when they did not respond.

They hadn’t known how to respond. Did they love him? Could they even love the way he wanted them to?

They didn’t know.

But Beelzebub had many millennia of practice hiding their emotions, and so they schooled their features into a blank mask, and then they sank into the earth, leaving the stunned Archangel behind.

Beelzebub still didn’t know how to feel about that interaction either.

They did their best to not think about it.

~

Gabriel had tried to contact them twice since the Saturday the world almost ended. A few weeks after Adam Young and the Them defeated the Four Horsemen and averted the Apocalypse, Beelzebub had found a note sitting on their desk, written in beautiful looping handwriting on glowing white paper:

_Beelzebub._

_I have to talk to you. Please. Is there a place we can meet?_

_G._

Tucked into the note was a single, white feather.

Beelzebub had thrown both the note and the feather into the fire, ignoring the feeling of joy that had swelled in their chest when they saw the note. They also ignored the gnawing regret as they watched the feather curl into ash.

The second time, Gabriel had actually called them. It was a few months after the note, and Beelzebub had almost gotten to the point where they could pretend none of it had actually happened.

They had been in their office, going through a report, one of Hastur’s. They were irritated because he had left splashes of black blood on a few of the pages, obscuring the words, and cleaning off the blood while leaving the words was tricky, annoying, and generally not how Beelzebub had wanted to spend their afternoon. As they cleared away yet another splatter of the thick, tarlike substance, the ancient landline phone in the corner rang loudly. Crowley had installed it in 1951, fed up with Beelzebub contacting them through animals and humans on Earth. The red-haired demon had been female that day, and her heels had wobbled dangerously as she flung her arms out in exasperation.

 _I’m tired of you talking to me through the squirrels in the park,”_ Crowley had said. _“So I got you a phone. Wonderful invention, really. Call me.”_

She had then left the office in a huff, and Beelzebub had never bothered to have the phone removed.

Beelzebub had thrown the bloody report down onto the desk and marched over to the phone, picking it up and holding it to their ear warily, as if it were about to bite. Then again, you never really knew when it came to the phones in Hell.

Gabriel’s voice had come over the phone, clearly relieved. “Beelzebub! I—”

The Archangel’s voice had been cut off when Beelzebub slammed the phone down. They had stood over it for a few moments, staring at it as if it really _had_ bit them, before whirling around and storming out of the office, leaving Hastur’s blood-splattered report on the desk.

Beelzebub had declared the angel off-limits. They didn’t let themself think about him, not at all. Gabriel was as good as dead to them.

 _I won’t let him change anything_ , Beelzebub told themself. _This changes nothing_.

They ignored the flicker of doubt in the back of their mind, ignored the voice that whispered, _This changes_ everything _._

~

Beelzebub was striding through one of the main halls, Dagon and Hastur behind them, when they felt it.

An angel was Falling.

A brief jolt of fear went through them, but they shoved it away.

“I wonder who it is,” Dagon drawled, tapping her fingers against the wall. “Could be that one… Aziraphale.”

“Crowley’s angel,” Hastur spat.

Beelzebub assumed an air of nonchalance. “Doezzn’t matter.”

Dagon smiled thinly. “Another warrior to add to the ranks of Hell.”

“Come,” Beelzebub said. “We muzzt be there when it arrivezz.” They turned on their heel and strode down the corridor, flies buzzing in their wake.

 _Please don’t let it be him_ , they thought, silently begging someone, anyone to spare him. _Please don’t let it be Gabriel._

When they reached the place where the angel would land, there was already a large crowd of demons gathered around. As they stepped into the crowd, they glanced up. This was the only place in Hell that one could see the sky. It was a perfect day up Above, a clear blue sky scattered with fluffy white clouds. There was a light breeze, and the clouds moved lazily across the heavens.

The heavens from which an angel was currently Falling.

“There it is!” someone shouted. Beelzebub squinted, scanning the skies.

There they were. A tiny, burning speck hurtling downward, growing bigger and bigger with every passing second.

The demons below stood clumped together, waiting with baited breath for the Fallen angel to hit. To slam into the bubbling pool of sludge before them.

Dread rose in Beelzebub’s gut. The Falling angel was glowing so bright. Like they had more divinity to burn away than most angels. Like they were an Archangel, perhaps.

 _It’s not him_ , Beelzebub told themself, but even in their head they sounded uncertain. _No. No, it can’t be him. It can’t be Gabriel_.

The angel was getting closer and closer, Falling faster and faster, until Beelzebub had to shield their eyes from the glow.

 _SHOOM_.

Beelzebub blinked their eyes open, staring at the smoldering pit of sulfuric mud that the angel—no, _demon_ , now—had just plunged into. Fear spiked in their gut again and they shoved forward, demons parting to let them through. Beelzebub stumbled to a halt at the edge of the pool, staring at the newly Fallen demon collapsed in the center who was looking straight at them, his purple eyes wide and horrified.

Gabriel.

 _No_.

His wings were flung out behind him, charred and twisted, but clearly as black as night.

Gabriel had Fallen.

 _Fuck_.


	2. Chapter 2

For a moment, Beelzebub couldn’t move.

All their worst fears had come true.

He’d _Fallen_.

All of a sudden, their brain lurched back into gear. Gabriel had just Fallen, and now they were just standing there gaping at him like an idiot. Beelzebub took a deep breath—not that they needed it, but whatever—and stepped out into the pool, its surface hardening where their feet touched it.

The walk across the pool to where Gabriel lay seemed to take much longer than it should have, and this feeling was only heightened by the fact that Gabriel’s eyes never left Beelzebub’s the entire time.

They reached him, gritting their teeth against the waves of pain and confusion radiating off him. He struggled to his knees, the mud sucking at him as he tried to stand, legs trembling. His mouth opened and closed like a fish, but nothing came out.

His hands closed around Beelzebub’s wrists as he croaked their name. “Beez…”

Beelzebub shoved him off, feeling lower and more wretched than the most inferior demon in Hell. They had to keep up appearances, no matter how much it hurt. But still, seeing him kneeling there, utterly destroyed, and doing nothing to help him, was almost enough to convince them to drop the ruse.

But they couldn’t. Doing that would get both them and Gabriel killed.

“Come, demon,” Beelzebub said imperiously, turning on their heel. “Follow me.”

They could hear Gabriel struggling to his feet behind them, and they winced at every muffled grunt of pain he let out.

 _It’s not far,_ they thought as hard as they could, wishing Gabriel could hear. _It’s not far to my rooms, and then you’ll be safe_.

Beelzebub kept their head up and their expression vaguely bored as they crossed the pool. As they neared the edge, they called out to the crowd of demons waiting for them, “Move on! Out of the way!”

The demons parted silently and allowed Beelzebub through with Gabriel limping slowly after them. Hastur and Dagon came up to meet them, and Beelzebub had to stop and turn to survey Gabriel with the other two demons.

“He’ll make a good addition to the legions,” Dagon said.

“Yezz,” was all Beelzebub could manage.

Hastur smiled menacingly at Gabriel, but smiles had never looked natural on Hastur, and all of a sudden Beelzebub shivered. They turned back to the tunnels.

“Come. He needzz rest before he can work.”

Beelzebub’s jaw was clenched so tight it hurt, but they didn’t let it show on their face as they moved back underground into the tunnels of Hell, Dagon and Hastur flanking them, Gabriel staggering behind. Demons parted before them like water, voices falling silent as they approached. Each pair of eyes stayed locked on Gabriel until he passed out of sight.

Every whimper Gabriel let out tore at whatever was left of Beelzebub’s shriveled, demonic heart, but the Prince of Hell could hardly imagine how much worse it must be for the Fallen angel behind them.

After what felt like an eternity, Beelzebub arrived at their rooms. They swung the rusting iron doors open and ushered Gabriel inside. Hastur and Dagon slunk in after him as Beelzebub turned to face the horde of demons gathered outside.

“Off you go!” they said. “We will deal with the, ah… new arrival. Move along.”

Slowly, the demons shuffled away, leaving the corridor cold and empty. Not even the usual traffic moved along it now.

Beelzebub closed the doors and turned to face Hastur, Dagon and Gabriel. The former two were standing on either side of the latter, who was huddled on the floor, wings dragging behind him.

Beelzebub knew they had to get Hastur and Dagon out as fast as possible, but that wouldn’t be easy.

Dagon crouched down next to Gabriel, grasping his chin and turning his face upwards towards her. “Good. Strong corporation.” She looked back at his wings, shaking her head. “I don’t think we can save the wings though.” Her lips pulled back from her teeth in a grim smile. “Not like he’ll need them to work.”

Hastur kicked Gabriel in the ribs, and the former Archangel let out a sharp huff of breath.

Dagon stood, clasping her hands behind her back. “We’ll leave him to you, Lord Beelzebub.”

Hastur stepped back. “Let us know when he’s ready to work.”

The two demons headed towards the door, Dagon stepping over one of Gabriel’s outstretched wings. Her boot came down on the edge of his wing, and Beelzebub winced at the crunch of bone snapping. Gabriel whimpered and tried to rise, but Hastur and Dagon were already out in the hallway.

“Good luck,” Dagon said with a thin smile.

The door swung shut with a bone-rattling _clang_.

Beelzebub dropped to their knees in front of Gabriel, their hand coming up and cupping his cheek. His eyes met theirs, and Beelzebub was reminded, suddenly, of the day that they first saw him. Back when they were both angels. Back when they were in Heaven. So much had changed since then, and yet those violet eyes remained the same. Still able to see right through them, through the shadows and the cobwebs and the six millennia of loneliness and to the demon beneath.

“Gabriel,” Beelzebub breathed. “What happened?”

He didn’t answer, but his eyes stayed locked on theirs. Beelzebub ran their thumb gently down the side of his face. “Pleazze, Gabriel, love, what can I do?”

He closed those beautiful violet eyes just as the first tear slid down Beelzebub’s face.

“Pleazze,” they said again. “Gabriel.” His name was a plea. White fire burned in their mind, and they remembered the pain of Falling, their wings screaming in agony as they plummeted down, away from the only home they’d ever known, away from the only being who’d ever loved them for themself. They remembered the look of desperation in violet eyes as he watched them plunge, reaching out in vain to catch them.

But that was a long time ago, and Beelzebub had no idea how Gabriel felt about it now.

They reached out with their other hand and twined their fingers through his, but he did nothing in response. Beelzebub looked down at their interlaced hands as another tear slid down their cheek. When they looked back up, Gabriel’s eyes were open.

“Beez,” he said, tears in his eyes. Beelzebub leaned forward, resting their forehead against his.

“Gabriel,” they whispered. “It’zz okay. It’zz all over. We don’t have to hide anymore.”

For one awful moment, he didn’t move, and then his arms were around Beelzebub’s neck, holding them close. Beelzebub returned the embrace, tucking their head under his chin and sliding their arms around him, being careful to avoid his damaged wings. He took a deep, shuddering breath, and Beelzebub held him tighter.

“It’zz all over,” they repeated. “It’zz all going to be okay.”


	3. Chapter 3

Beelzebub ran their hand lightly over the edge of Gabriel’s wing, feeling out the break. He was still crouched on the floor, his wings lying crookedly on the floor behind him.

“Gabriel,” Beelzebub said softly. “Thizz izz going to hurt, okay?”

He didn’t say anything, but he nodded, a nearly imperceptible dip of his chin. Beelzebub positioned their hands on his wing and shoved the bone back into place. Gabriel cried out, quickly stifling it, but Beelzebub’s heart twisted. They ran a hand over the break, healing it. They moved carefully around his first set of wings, healing the broken bones, then the second and third sets, but that was as much as they could do. Their power was useless for the burns covering the former Archangel’s wings, because those wounds had been inflicted by infernal fire.

“Your wingzz will heal,” Beelzebub said, trying to reassure him, but they could hear the uncertainty in their words. They tried to find something to say, crouching down so they were at eye level with the Fallen Archangel on the floor. “Mine… mine did.”

Gabriel looked up, finally meeting their eyes. He reached around and ran a hand up Beelzebub’s back before splaying his hand flat across their shoulder blades.

A tiny smile came to Beelzebub’s lips. “You’ve never zzeen my wingzz, have you?” Gabriel didn’t respond, but his eyes didn’t leave Beelzebub’s as they unfurled their wings. A gray so dark it was almost black, each feather outlined and veined in pale gray, giving the illusion of thousands of dark fly wings making up Beelzebub’s six wings.

The Prince looked back at Gabriel. He was smiling.

Beelzebub smiled back, folding their wings back into themself. They guided Gabriel towards the bed in the back room of their chambers. It hadn’t been used in decades, but Beelzebub was fairly sure that it was still structurally sound.

“Get zzome rest,” Beelzebub said gently. Gabriel wordlessly crawled onto the bed and curled up on it, clearly exhausted. Beelzebub waited until his breaths evened out before slipping out of their chambers and into the hallway. They steeled themself, their emotionless mask slipping over their face, and went to find Dagon and Hastur.

They found Dagon yelling at a cowering group of lesser demons in a back room, and Hastur lurking in a dark corner near the corridor that led to Beelzebub’s chambers. Presumably, he was waiting for them. When Beelzebub entered the room, Hastur locked eyes with them, and Dagon’s screamed obscenities abruptly ceased. She shooed the thoroughly cowed lesser demons out of the room and turned to face Beelzebub.

“Well?” she asked. “How is our… guest?”

Beelzebub knew that Dagon remembered what had been between them and Gabriel before the Fall. Hastur did not, but Dagon… she knew. And Beelzebub knew that she would use this against them the first chance she got.

“He izz resting,” Beelzebub replied.

“When can he start _working_?” Dagon asked sharply. Beelzebub regarded her with a blank expression.

“I would remind you that you are zzpeaking above your rank.”

Dagon nodded quickly. “Of course. I apologize, my Prince.”

Beelzebub fixed her with a cold stare for a handful of moments before speaking again. “The former Archangel izz to be _my_ responsibility, and mine only. You are to leave him be. He will need heavy conditioning if he izz to be of any use to uzz, and I will not have you mucking up my work.”

Beelzebub waited just long enough to hear both demons’ muttered assent, before turning on their heel and leaving the room.

They needed to clear their head. Gabriel was safe for now, and that was what mattered. But they couldn’t let anyone suspect… suspect that they cared.

Oh, for Satan’s sake. Why did the stupid angel have to get himself thrown out of Heaven? Why now? It occurred to Beelzebub that they still didn’t know _why_ Gabriel had been cast out, but they figured that was a conversation for another day.

What were they going to do with him? Gabriel was an Archangel. One of those hadn’t Fallen in six millennia, and Beelzebub had no idea what to do with him. Setting aside their complicated feelings about him and their—although the word felt strange, even in their head—relationship, there was still the issue that it would be harder for him to adjust than for any of the other angels who had Fallen over the past year. And there was no one Beelzebub could go to for help.

Well, that wasn’t quite true. There were, technically, two people Beelzebub could go to. Not that they were strictly _people_. But they were, frankly, the last beings in existence Beelzebub wanted to see. Ever.

Deep in their thoughts, Beelzebub hadn’t realized where their feet had taken them until they stood before the entrance to Earth.

They stopped abruptly when they realized where they were.

Of course. It was like the universe was taunting them.

Well, they weren’t _that_ desperate. Not yet anyways.

Beelzebub sighed and turned around, heading back into Hell. They remembered the broken Archangel in their quarters and dug their fingernails into their palms.

They weren’t desperate enough yet, but they knew that they would be soon.

And then they’d pay Crowley and Aziraphale a visit.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! If you liked it, leave me a comment! Comments make my writer self happy. 
> 
> My tumblr is @fuckin-fudge-nutter if you want to come talk to me!


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